Valentine's Day: Round Two
by shira syndrome
Summary: Fifty two days later, Renji makes a return trip. Companion piece to 'Merry Christmas, Ichigo'. [shounen ai]


Disclaimer: Alas, it is not mine. And the skies weep in grief and sorrow!

a/n: HA. HA. It's not late! I managed to finish a holiday piece on time for the actual holiday. Shit, I think I deserve a special prize for that, myself. XD

Anyhow, I thought I terminated the particular urge to write Renji/Ichigo fluff after the _last_ fluffy one-shot, but then people asked for a sequel, and the bunnie came calling, and, just, bah! Now please keep in mind... I don't know anything about Japanese holidays besides the basics, so if there are any discrepancies or anything, feel free to tell me. Or any big fuck-ups for that matter - in which case, y'know, bawl me out.

* * *

---

**Valentine's Day: Round Two**

---

It had been exactly fifty two days since Christmas Eve.

It had been exactly fifty two days since Abarai Renji had kissed him. (Actually kissed him! On the mouth and everything! _Twice_!)

And it had been exactly fifty two days of Kon's constant reminders.

And today. Was Valentine's Day. Now Ichigo had never had a really big problem with Valentine's Day, exactly - it was White Day that really got him going, which was consequently at the top of Holidays That Suck Ass list - and it was Christmas that usually took second place, what with all the typical circus of catastrophes that usually went on.

But today he was revising that list. Because...

Well, what was really wrong with White Day? Giving out chocolates to girls wasn't _that_ big of a deal. Chocolates made girls happy. And happy girls made life a lot easier than angry girls. And Christmas wasn't _so_ bad, excluding that one time concerning events-that-would-never-be-spoken-of-again. Right? Right. Not so bad. White Day was kind of fun, anyway; they got classes off in the afternoon, and there were always a lot of entertaining things to laugh at (Keigo having a panic attack over whether to pick white or dark chocolate, in particular).

Nah, wasn't so bad at all. Neither was Christmas. He could live with Christmas. He could live with White Day. He could live with Christmas and White Day on the _same_ day. He could! Just so long as...

But today... was Valentine's Day. And damn it to hell, that stupid holiday! He forevermore hated Valentine's Day!

Because!

Because...

Because Abarai Renji was currently loitering in a tree outside of his school.

Just in sight of the third story window, in fact. In plain view of the window-row of desks, too. Which was where Ichigo was sitting. By the third story window. Which looked down on the school grounds. And the trees on the school grounds. And Renji. Sitting in a tree. Outside the window.

And had he already mentioned Renji was perched in a tree outside the window?

Ichigo clenched his jaw, hoping no one could hear his teeth grind together. He was trying desperately to ignore him - or even better, pretend that no, he did not recognize the spirit force coming from the gigai, or _even better_, that he didn't even know the oddly dressed redhead! Of course, it was damn near impossible to do such a thing, but he was trying.

In his defence, he had managed to take down all the notes, and was only squeezing the edges of his desk with moderate force. There were no afternoon classes today either, and there was only a few more minutes...

Oh, that bastard was going to pay. For kissing him. Twice over for kissing him more than once! Thrice over for showing up after fifty two days of blissful absence! Yeah! He'd show that fuckhead. With much bruising and bloodletting. But that meant approaching him. That meant getting close. Close enough to hear his annoying voice, a-and touch! Close enough t-to do _those things_...

He could always escape through the fire exit without ever putting a foot on the school grounds.

That would work too.

The final bell rang, and ahead of him Mizuiro jumped up from his desk with something akin to manic glee. Defying all laws of physics, the girl-chaser usually got most of the chocolates of the class. What was even more disturbing was that he came in second to Ishida Uryuu himself, who racked in the most giri-choco _and_ honmei-choco, much to the chagrin of Keigo, who was probably plotting his demise by way of chalk brush suffocation or something equally stupid.

There were only three girls who fostered other candidates. Chizuru, of course, flattered Inoue with a shitload of expensive crap that she claimed was honmei-choco all the way, gender conventions be damned. The other two were Inoue and Tatsuki, the only two who forced chocolates on him. At least, Tatsuki threatened to beat his ass if he didn't take her giri-choco; Inoue was the one to give him other things along with a giant batch of chocolates she made herself. (He didn't want to hurt her feelings by pointing out her recipes were, to be frank, goddamn terrible.)

She liked to give him scarves. He had enough scarves from Valentine's Day to last him three hundred lifetimes.

Ichigo didn't really know what to make of that.

But it seemed to make her happy to see him accept it, so when she interrupted his mad dash to freedom to shove a big red box under his nose, he took a moment to thank her for it, before he shoved it in his bag and rushed out of the classroom like the hounds of hell were on his tail.

Hopefully they weren't. Unless, of course, they had moved from their tree. And that that possibility would not suit his plans of escape at all.

And just how the hell did the bastard keep getting away with this shit anyway? His time in Soul Society had given him the impression that the activities of shinigami released into the human world were strictly monitored. It wasn't like you could just jot your friggin' name down on a sign-out sheet and pick up a gigai at the door. But no, there was a goddamn vice captain hovering around his school like he had all the time in the world to wait.

And why he was here waiting... well, that was becoming all too obvious to some deep, dark (and rather stunned) part of his mind.

Ichigo darted out of the throng of students and into the deserted stairwell; it came out at the back of the school, and after a little bit of the scenic route, he could be home. Home. The place where things made sense. With plenty of doors to barricade.

Sighing, he shifted his bag to the other shoulder and started down.

It wasn't like he was paranoid. Or a coward. Or a paranoid coward. No! He wasn't! He was just avoiding Renji because... because Renji didn't have anything important to say! There were no Hollows, no Menos-whatever-the-hell, no Aizen guy, and if it had been important he would've brought it up straight off. So really there was no reason to talk to him. Nope. None.

Hell, if you were a guy and randomly got kissed by another guy - especially one who you'd fought back-to-back with and had sort of gotten comfortable around - what the fuck would _you_ do?

_... I'm a gutless wonder. Just 'cause that fucker had the nerve to k-kiss me I've turned into a fucking sissy! That son of a bitch! Just wait 'til I see him again, I'll -_

"Yo."

Ichigo squeaked and grabbed the rail before he pitched over backwards.

_Dammit! I didn't even hear the fucking door open!_

From his precarious view through the bars he could see the object of his considerable wrath standing at the bottom of the stairwell, looking... bored.

Bored? _Bored_? How did he think he could get away with that all the goddamn time? God, but he was so... _so_...

Now Ichigo was pissed off. So pissed, in fact, he forgot all about his earlier awkwardness for a moment. "What the hell do you want?" he barked, stomping down the stairs to retrieve his bag, which had fallen off his shoulder and flopped down a few stairs.

Renji reared back and gave him a long look as though he were surprised by the reaction. It gave Ichigo the chance to see his entire figure. It made him realize just how much he really hoped he never met the person who Renji had been stealing clothes from.

"And here I thought you were trying to sneak off without saying hey. That wouldn't be very polite of ya, runnin' off on an old friend and all," Renji replied. "Besides, I thought I told ya - I said I might stop by if I had the time. Don't tell me you don't remember." There was the suggestive wiggle of eyebrows Ichigo had never wanted to see again.

He shifted away from door and opened it with one hand placed high on the frame, the other hidden in the pocket of his pants. When he didn't move aside when Ichigo approached, he was forced to dart under his arm to reach the sidewalk outside, which seemed to amuse Renji, if the sudden grin was any indication.

Bastard.

_I'll kill him. I will! _

They had barely gotten to the street - Ichigo marching ahead as fast as he could, Renji following along at his shoulder - when the shinigami lieutenant stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, spun him around, and pushed something into his hands with an offhand, "Here."

Ichigo stared at the little package that fit into his palm. He turned it around in his hand absently, more interested in the fact his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire.

"Um. No. Take it back," was all he managed to croak out before he tried in vain to hand it back. Renji had returned both hands to his pockets and gave the present being waved under his nose a baleful glare.

"What the hell are you doing that for? Rukia wanted you to have it."

Oh.

Yeah, his face was spontaneously combusting.

Ichigo cleared his throat a little. "W-what is it?" He felt safer with it in his hand, now that his stomach wasn't doing back flips. They resumed walking, Ichigo now going a more sedate pace.

"Dunno," Renji said with a shrug. "Said you probably wouldn't get anything, so she'd better give you something since she missed it last time she was here."

Ichigo growled. "Damn it, that's not true! I get stuff from girls!"

That earned a genuine laugh.

"Your sisters don't count."

Stepping into his path, Ichigo whipped open his bag in front of the other shinigami with a proud smirk. Tatsuki's was hidden under his notebook, but Orihime's giant red box of possible food poisoning glinted up at them from where he had shoved it in his haste to get out of the classroom.

"See? Chocolate. From a girl. Think I'm lying now?"

Renji wasn't laughing any longer. The glare from earlier returned to his face and he turned it fullforce on the defenceless red box. "And who the hell gave you that, huh?"

For once, Ichigo was so incredibly thankful for Inoue and her flamboyant presents. Because whatever about it was making Abarai so mad, Ichigo wanted to milk it as long as he could.

"Inoue," he answered, smug.

"Inoue? Orihime?" Renji's face smoothed out once again, and - much to Ichigo's annoyance - he shot him another amused grin. "Well, why didn't you say so? That's okay then."

_'That's okay then'? What the fuck does that mean?_

"But I guess I could give you a gift too -"

"No!" Ichigo burst out.

Some lady walking her dog down the street stared at them.

"And why the hell not?" Renji demanded.

Ichigo felt the mother of all headaches coming on, and maybe a panic attack or two. "Because! Uh... Because you can't! This... is Valentine's Day! Girls are supposed to give guys stuff! White Day is where guys give girls stuff! Get it? So you can't give me a... gift... because, you know, you can't."

Renji seemed to take a moment and the mull the newfound information over. His brow furrowed in a thoughtful fashion.

Then he opened his mouth and Ichigo thought the amount of blood rushing to his head might make it explode.

"Well that doesn't make any fuckin' sense. When's the holiday where guys get to give guys stuff?"

_... Oh. Oh. This is... just... oh. I think I'm gonna die. _

"There is no holiday for that!" Ichigo screeched.

Renji looked at him pensively. "Nothin' like that, huh? Well. That's too bad, I guess. Wished I'd known that sooner, or I wouldn't've waited so long to come back." He grinned then. It made Ichigo feel like fresh bait trapped in shark-infested waters. "But I'm here now, right?"

This time, Ichigo was not so dense as to misinterpret the shift in his voice (_It's the bedroom tone! _some sick part of his mind supplied).

He had been rehashing this scenario in his head for the past fifty two days.

He knew what to do. Duck and dodge. Punch the shithead in the face.

What he was not expecting was to have Renji trip his feet up and send him careening into the nearest residential fence with a well-aimed shove.

And then -

Oh, fucking hell and shit and goddamn it!

There was no taste of cinammon from gingerbread men this time. Whatever it was he tasted, it was all Renji, and god did he ever need to put his foot down when it came to kissing in publ -

_No! To all kissing! No kissing at all! No! Bad! This is - I'm not - Oh crap - _

With all appendages capable of striking him pinned down, Renji was in no rush. When he pulled away, he laughed, and the wash of hot breath on his skin made Ichigo shiver.

"Ichigo! You bastard! You've been holding out on me! Rukia was wrong, you got over the whole chaste virgin thing faster than she told me you would!"

"_What the fu_ - mmph!"

* * *

Written under time constraints, unedited, and unrevised, which all explain the severe lack of substance. But! For all you Valentine's Day lovers who enjoy WAFFy stuff, I hope you enjoyed. Even a little. 


End file.
